Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Hungary and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Real Kids to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Ralphi Rosario,
Supertramp,
Panda Bear,
Slave,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jawbox,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The New Christs,
Man Eating Sloth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Matthew Halsall,
Chrome,
Monolake,
John Holt,
Thee Headcoats,
Circle Jerks,
The Names,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Smoke,
Echospace,
Barrington Levy,
Surgeon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Smog,
Whodini,
the Fania All-Stars,
Letta Mbulu,
Davy DMX,
Vladislav Delay,
Dave Gahan,
Boz Scaggs,
Excepter,
The Slits,
Donny Hathaway,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ituana,
Banda Bassotti,
Swans,
In Retrospect,
John Foxx,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lindisfarne,
Terry Callier,
David Bowie,
Marine Girls,
U.S. Maple,
Gang of Four,
Pole,
the Germs,
Jeff Lynne,
Tomorrow,
Harry Pussy,
Alphaville,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Interpol,
Mantronix,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bobby Sherman,
DJ Sneak,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.